


Neverland

by JustSaph



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, F/F, I'm Bad At Tagging, Lexa transfers schools post elementary school away from clarke, Minor Character Death, time capsule
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 06:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8152217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSaph/pseuds/JustSaph
Summary: Clarke and Lexa are best friends in elementary school until Lexa transfers to a different middle school. They try to maintain their friendship but ultimately their attempts fail. Now in their senior year, everything seems to be conspiring to drive them back together.





	

Snow drifted slowly down from the sky, coating the ground in a thin layer of snow. The snow wasn’t enough to close anything, but it was just enough to cause an annoyance to most of the town of Arkadia. The only people that were allowed to enjoy the snow had long since gone inside, restricted by bedtimes among other things.

Clarke lay on her bed, the silence in the room only interrupted by the ticking the watch sitting on her bedside table. The day had passed slowly, but she had barely moved from her bed since her mother had left for work in the morning. It was dark outside now, only a small amount Clarke knew she should have at least made an effort to get up. The front door slammed, confirming that Clarke had indeed wasted the entire day. She could hear her mother’s footsteps on the wooden floor standing out against the silence. Clarke tried to remain as still as possible, trying not to make any noise. She heard her mother’s steps stop before her door.

Abby knocked twice, before opening it, causing Clarke to groan audibly as light flooded in from the hallway. “Clarke?”

“Yes?” Clarke responded harshly.

“Clarke-”

“Don’t, Mom.”

Abby pursed her lips, her frustration with her daughter growing. Clarke had always been rebellious to say the least, but it was getting to the point where she was becoming unmanageable.

“Clean your room,” she snapped, flicking the light switch. “It looks like a bomb went off in here.”

Abby’s words were punctuated by the door being slammed shut. Clarke looked around her room rubbing her eyes, as if seeing it for the first time. Various tubes of paint were scattered around the room, along with other art supplies. There were also several half-finished canvases stacked haphazardly on the edge of her desk. Crushed bits of charcoal were also covering what she was pretty sure had been her calculus homework.

Clarke sighed in resignation, lifting herself out of bed and dragging herself over to the desk. She lifted her homework and shook it off, dust coming off of it. She’s pretty sure that it was due last week. She tucked it into her backpack sitting on the floor next to her desk, not really caring where it ended up. It’s not like she needed it anymore. She took the paintings off her desk next, bringing them over to her closet and pulling open the door. The only free space she could see for it was near the top, next to a green two liter soda bottle. Clarke blinked slowly, she had almost forgotten about it. Well, maybe not forgotten. It wasn’t like Clarke never opened her closet. But she had forgotten that it was now the year where the she was supposed to open it.

Clarke allowed herself a small smile thinking back to elementary school where she had first made the time capsule and filled it with it’s contents. What exactly was inside? Clarke couldn’t even quite remember herself. She only had until the end of the school year until she was supposed to open it.

* * *

 

“Okay class, today we’re making time capsules. Everyone has a bottle right?”

 

Clarke and Lexa waved their bottles in the air along with the rest of their class, causing the teacher to chuckle. Ms. Ayers began to lead them through the process of cutting off the top of the bottle section of the bottle allowed space for things to be put into it.

 

“I just had a couple of my old students come in last week with their bottles,” Ms.Ayers remarked. “They’re graduating now, couldn’t believe it myself. They all said it was great to see what they were interested back then compared to now.”

  
Clarke and Lexa laughed with each other because they couldn’t possibly forget this year. Afterall, 6th grade was a big deal, right? It would be impossible to forget.

* * *

 

While she couldn’t remember it contents, she certainly remembered how simple times had been for her. Back when her father had been around, and friends had been easier to come by.

There had been one friend that she had expected communication to last longer with after she had transferred schools for middle school, but it had been years since she had heard from her. Clarke hadn’t made any effort to contact her either though, so she reasoned they had no desire to talk to her.

On some level, she understood Lexa’s lack of response. She had her doubts to the meaningfulness of elementary school friendships, which had manifested themselves over time. Elementary school is only the beginnings of shaping one’s life. How could anyone be friends with someone else if they didn’t even know who they were yet? Clarke had spent far too much time thinking about her friend all of those years ago for someone who supposedly didn’t care.

Last she had heard, Lexa reportedly hated her now. Come to think of it, Clarke couldn’t remember where she had obtained that information or if anyone had even told her that in the first place.

Clarke’s smile faded, sliding the canvases into place on the shelf next to the bottle. She turned around and surveyed her room once again. It somehow seemed a lot smaller than it had before she had cleaned it up a bit.

Clarke still retained vivid memories of when her family had first moved into the two story house, and everything had seemed much larger to her six-year-old self. Her eyes had grown wide when she first saw her room, surprised that it really was all for her. It had taken at least five minutes for her dad to convince her that it was. The house had felt alive and full laughter.

Now though, the house just felt cramped and she couldn’t wait to move away and get out of the house. Years had passed and junk had cropped up everywhere in the room, along with possessions she couldn’t bear to get rid of. The air just felt thick everywhere in the house, and Clarke felt if she spoke freely she might just suffocate.

* * *

 

Clarke plopped back into her bed, exhausted after another tense dinner with her mother. As Clarke viewed it, their relationship was far beyond repair and life would be better if they both just never tried to talk to each other again.

Clarke fumbled around the side of her bed, trying to find her laptop. She pulled it up onto the bed a moment later and turned it on. She was never big on using her laptop but at one point in life she had made sure to check it daily for Skype. Clarke frowned to herself, wondering what Lexa was doing now and opened Skype.

Her contact list had been minimal and below double digits. She had really only talked to Lexa on there anyways. And that had stopped a while ago, or so she thought.

Clarke’s eyes widened as she saw the flood of messages from Lexa dating back a few years. From the looks of it they were only from two separate days. One day had been a few years ago and, all of the messages from it had been removed. More surprisingly, the other day had been last Thursday. This time, not all of them had been removed, each of the remaining ones being quite lengthy.

Clarke shifted on the bed in an attempt to get more comfortable before beginning to read.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing something like this and it probably shows, but hopefully its not awful? Just wanted to get that out of the way, don't have high expectations for this. Lower your bar. Like reallllly low. I am also awful at keeping a writing schedule but I will try my best to update once school smooths out for me.


End file.
